


The Devil's Truth

by LadyAntoinette



Category: Tombstone (1993)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Violence, Drinking, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time Blow Jobs, Gambling, Gun Violence, M/M, Sick Character, Small Towns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:34:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23328589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAntoinette/pseuds/LadyAntoinette
Summary: Wyatt and his family go to the good ole town of Tombstone to settle down and live normal lives but with the help of one devilish doctor and a few drunken coyboys  their plans (mainly Wyatt's) of normal lives come to a grinding halt.
Relationships: Wyatt Earp & Doc Holliday, Wyatt Earp/Doc Holliday
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

To Wyatt, there was nothing on Earth like the hellfire blaze of a midday sun in the south. Nothing. It was a gin and tonic, an equilizer of which all men fell privy to no matter the age or status.

The carriage stopped.

A large wooden sign, old and faded stood tall right in front of the entry. Welcome to Tombstone, it said, Where All Your Dreams Come True.

Wyatt smiled and slapped his knee turning to regard his brother's through warm sunlit blue eyes.

"Well I'll be, we made it."

His two older brothers exchanged glances and laughed, loud, harsh exclamations of joy that made Wyatt's heart beat erratic.

"Don't get to excited now" Virgil grinned. "We don't know what we're into yet."

Morgan leaned out of the carriage and spit. His dusty brown hair showed golden in the sunlight, cheeks puffy and raw from the heat.

"You say that but..."

"I say that because we're in new territory and anything could be waiting for us in this here quaint little town. Now are we just gonna sit here and look from afar or are we gonna gather our wives and take a look around?"

Wyatt's head shook and his blonde locks spilled out over his forehead as he took off his hat and readjusted it. He grabbed hold of the carriage door and used it for leverage to swing out.

His shoes dug into the hard dirt and he whistled, shielding his eyes from the harsh glare of the sun. "It's mighty hot ain't it?"

Morgan pulled his coat up and shrugged. "It ain't nothing we ain't seen before. If I know you, you'll get over it soon enough."

He and Virgil walked back to the second carriage carrying the girl's and Wyatt watched them fondly from afar. Being both the youngest and much less inclined to settle down he was the only one of the three of them that hadn't gotten married yet and he fully intended to keep it that way until he found the one. If ever.

Mattie and Louisa were fine young girl's, that he'd readily admit but Wyatt saw nothing in them or their type. Those kinds were for his brother's, tight lipped, blonde and soft. Wyatt wanted nothing to do with it, with them. He wanted someone with spirit, someone who lit a fire underneath his feet. Truth be told he wanted someone damn near impossible to find and his brother's told him so every chance they got.

"Why, this is such a lovely little town!" Louisa exclaimed. She squeezed Matties dress sleeve and smiled brightly, "don't you think?"

"Why I sure do, I sure do. Might see if I can do some actual shopping this time."

"You couldn't last time?" Laura got out of the carriage last, looking like she'd slept the entire time and still needed an hour. She was Wyatt's girlfriend, of sorts. Most likely because he wouldn't wife her. She was blonde, solidly built and a little on the fuller side of the scale with a sharp mind and a sharp tongue to match.

Wyatt had met her back in Kansas and brought her along. He might not be married but he could at least try and play the part.

"Wyatt? Wyatt Earp?"

Wyatt tore his gaze away from his family and came face to face with a small statured man with a grey bowler hat and a pinstripe suit. There was a gold star and badge pinned to it but he introduced himself before Wyatt could even open his mouth to ask.

"Well I'll be, Wyatt Earp it is you? You and your family I suppose. My name's John P Emmerson and I'm the Mayor of this here town. It's a pleasure to meet ya."

He held his hand out and they shook. Wyatt tucked a thumb in his pocket. "Its a pleasure meeting you too sir. We've only just arrived but we're looking to settle in for a bit if that's alright with you."

"Of course it's alright, you're plum welcome to anything I've got."

He glanced behind himself and back before shrugging a little and smiling. "I must say that you're in luck. I've got three brand new cottages on the outskirts of town, just freshly built. Being the fine upstanding man you are, you and your brother's can lodge in em, free of charge."

Wyatt lifted his hand to object. The last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to himself and his family by taking ownership of the finest house's in town. Being retired from the office and all, all he wanted to do was settle down and have a normal life. He'd had his fair share of attention and had found that he didn't quite want it anymore.

"Now Emmerson I don't think-"

"Now now Earp, I know you're fixin to object but I can assure you I want you to have em. No one else is gonna take em anyways."

Wyatt thought for a moment and then, reluctantly, consented. "Well alright I guess. I'd be a sorry excuse for a man if I didn't take em. I'm beholden to you."

They talked a little while longer, Emmerson pointing out all of the town's biggest attractions including the Gambling Emporium and saloon which Wyatt figured he'd make his first stop.

He let the mayor go in favor of letting the man converse with his brother's and made his way across the dirt, taking in the full sight of the town as he did so.

It had a very peaceful air to it, music playing, children running around, horse's neighing amd stomping their feet. It didn't seem to Wyatt that there could be any trouble, not when the air was so crisp and the sun so bright. This, he thought, would be a great place to settle down for a little while, maybe even find someone worth his time. Someone that wasn't Laura, but rather quite the opposite.

//

Wyatt entered the bar and several patrons looked up as he did so. Sweeping his hand into his coat he walked forward to the counter on light feet and took a look around.

Peach walls, shining counter, glasses sparkling on the shelves. The air spoke of whiskey and a faint hint of cigar smoke. There were paintings on the wall, an intriguing mixture of musical instruments and naked women.

"Get that cigar out of my face!"

The loud voice of a man reached his ears. He settled himself next to the counter and almost immediately a grey haired bartender popped up and asked him of his need.

"Why, a cigar I guess."

The bartender handed him his requested cigar and he lit it with a stray match. The first puff calmed him and he allowed himself to become emersed in the quietness of the scene. There was no one there but maybe two or three stragglers and the odd piano player. For a gambling place and a saloon it seemed to be almost comically empty. He mentioned so to the bartender.

"Um...pardon me for saying but uh, it's kinda dead in here, isn't it?"

The man behind the counter nodded and sighed. He jerked his head in the direction of the playing table and grumbled, "You see that cat over there? Well, one day he came in here and started slapping around the customer's, waving his gun around. He chased away all the high class game, been runnin it ever since. Now the only ones that come in here are the bums and the drovers."

Wyatt didn't say anything, instead choosing to slide his way over to the table and stand there taking in the scene. There was a man standing at the head of the table and the man behind it was angry and red faced, spit flying from his mouth as he chastised him across the wooden expanse.

"You back that queen you little shit and I'll blow you right up that wildcats ass" he said. He turned to the man beside him and hissed venemously, "get that damn cigar out of my face, how many damn time's do I have to tell you that!"

Wyatt fought back his smile. He'd dealt with this man's kind before. All talk and no bite. Everyone's afraid to challenge them so they rule without interruption. Easy picking if you asked him. It was easy being the top dog when you'd never met a wolf.

After dealing the waiting man his money the man behind the table finally noticed Wyatt. He narrowed his eyes.

"Somethin on your mind?" Wyatt shrugged and took another puff of his cigar.

"Just wanted to let you know you're sitting in my chair."

Silence. The man from earlier collected his money and moved quickly away.

"Is that a fact?"

Wyatt nodded. "Yeah that's a fact."

"For a man that don't go heeled you sure do run your mouth kind of reckless."

The chuckle that escaped the blondes lips was one of barely any humor. It was merely an outlet for his building excitement. "I don't need to go heeled to deal with lowdown bums like you."

The man stood. A sinister smirk sat on his lips and Wyatt wanted nothing more than to punch it off of his sweaty face.

"I'm real scared" the man drawled and he nodded.

"Damn right you're scared. I can see it in your eyes."

The man's hand twitched as he contemplated reaching for his gun and in the next instant Wyatt had crossed the few feet separating them and stood jarringly close within his personal space.

"Go ahead" he growled. "Go ahead, skin it. Skin that smoke wagon and see what happens."

The other man's lip's fumbled as he stood there flabbergasted and fought to come up with the proper word's. Apparently from the looks of things Wyatt was his very first challenger, and more than likely, if things went the way he wanted them to, his last.

"Listen mister I'm getting awful tired of your-"

Wyatt slapped him once, hard, and the sound echoed throughout the small room.

"I'm getting real tired of your gas" Wyatt said calmly but his bright blue eyes were fire. "Now jerk that pistol and go to work!"

Wyatt slapped him again when he did nothing. "I said throw down boy."

The finger's twitched again but made no movement further and Wyatt knew then exactly what he was dealing with. A boy. If it were a real man his brain's would be decorations on the wall behind him.

The third and final time Wyatt slapped him brought blood, which dripped slowly down the side of his mouth and onto his vest.

"You gonna do something or just stand there and bleed?"

More silence. Wyatt lifted his left hand and took another puff out of his cigar before blowing the smoke in the man's face.

"No? I didn't think so."

He disarmed him quick and tossed his gun to the bartender. "A gift from me to you, hang it over the mantlepiece or somethin, it'll look pretty."

He took the offending man by the ear and dragged him over the hard wood floors, throwing him out the big double doors and into the bright merciless sunlight beyond.

"Get out and don't come back! Ever!"

When he turned back to face the bartender there was a slight smirk on his face and he tilted his head in a somewhat thoughtful manner.

"What do you say, does twenty five percent of the total earnings sound like a fair deal?"

//

Wyatt informed his brother's of his new job and their new source of income as soon as he got outside. Emmerson had already told them of their housing so that was what they were on their way to see when the so called "tour" was over.

"Wyatt now how the hell did you manage to get twenty five percent in five minutes" Virgil inquired.

He rolled his eyes at his younger brothers cheeky grin.

"Well let's just say I have a way with words."

"God Wyatt I've heard you talk to women. You couldn't serenade a horse let alone a full grown individual."

They made it halfway across the plot of sand before Wyatt got a strange sinking feeling in his gut and someone's shout raised the hair's on the back of his neck.

"Johnny Tyler!"

The brothers turned. Wyatt's eyes did some sort of widening motion as he came face to face with the man from earlier in the gambling place who, for some reason, was holding a shotgun that was pointing right at him.

"Doc?" The man said whispering. "I didn't know you were back in town."

The voice that replied was unlike anything Wyatt had ever heard. A perfect mixture of southern, snark and sass sprinkled over with a pinch of malice.

"Well now you know. But what I'm curious of is where exactly you're going to with that there shotgun."

The second man, the one who'd yelled was directly in front of them, walking, or should Wyatt say swaggering down the stairs.

Wyatt's mouth went dry. Tall, mild and on the leaner side this man was an enigma he couldn't seem to figure out upon first glance. There was a cigarette in his hand which he puffed on once and then tossed, standing there with his back slanted and one hand in his pocket.

Wyatt was stuck. The man's deep viridian eye's spoke of chaos and destruction but his appearance and stature spoke of a man very well put together. Wyatt didn't know what to make of it, so he stared with his mouth open instead, for once, entirely speechless.

"Why, I don't think we've ever been acquainted" the man drawled.

He held his hand out to Wyatt and Wyatt only and the golden blonde shook with him.

"The name's John" the man said. "John Holliday but from the way I hear it it's doc."

"Wyatt Earp."

"W-Wyatt Earp!"

The exclamation came not from the doctor but rather the other man, Johnny, who's shotgun now hung limply beside him. " _The_ Wyatt Earp?"

No one said anything in response. Wyatt's brothers began talking on their own but Doc's cool gaze remained on Wyatt, scrutinizing him, and Wyatt got this strange, tingling feeling in the pit of his stomach like he was somehow being picked apart where he stood.

"You're a doctor?" He questioned.

The man, Doc, inclined his head. "Of a certain practice."

They eyed one another where they stood. The doctor's hand went up and he twirled his mustache accordingly until the sound of a throat clearing stole his attention.

"Oh" he said lazily. "I'm sorry Johnny, I forgot you were standing there." He lifted his hand and flourished it in the other direction. "You may go now."

"Thank you."

The ex card dealer turned to walk away but not before Wyatt had the chance to bark at him.

"Leave the gun!"

Tyler shuffled around on his feet and Wyatt tapped his foot once on the dirt for added emphasis. "Go on, leave it."

When the gun was safely disposed of on the ground he redirected his attention to the man ahead who was still looking at him with that same ferocious intensity.

"Wyatt Earp, huh. I've heard of you" the man drawled. "I wonder if your reputation preceeds you."

"I could say the same to you."

"Oh I can assure you sheriff" he said, voice low and Wyatt shivered against his nature. "It does."


	2. Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wyatt gets further introduced to the town and the mysterious doctor.

* * *

Inside the theater, the chairs and benches and even the tables were filled to bursting with patrons of all ages, sizes and occupations. Many of them, Wyatt noticed, of which had red sashes tied around their waists, something that he questioned Virgil about on their way up to the box seats. 

"I noticed it earlier walking around town" the man said. "Plum says it's the symbol of the cowboys."

"The what?"

"The cowboy's" Virgil repeated. "That's what they call themselves."

Wyatt frowned and eyed the rowdy men from the side. Cowboy's? Really? From what he could see there were alot of them and there didn't seem to be any upstanding law in the town. Were these cowboy's running it?

"Are they dangerous?" He asked. "Should we move on em?"

Virgil scratched his mustache and shook his head completely ignoring his first question. "Not unless they move on us first."

//

Their seats were plush and cozy, highly unlike those of the one's down below. It was really amazing what money could get you nowadays.

The mayor and his friends were in the first box and Virgil, Morgan and their girl's sat together in the last box, leaving Wyatt and Laura all by themselves in the middle one, or so he'd originally thought.

Down below his gaze was drawn against his will as though by magnets and he found himself staring directly at the smooth talking doctor from earlier.

His breath cought in his throat.

Dressed sharply in yet another pristine three piece suit, this one a fine mixture of gold, black, and red, he was walking with a scandalous looking brunnette woman wearing a burgundy lace dress.

For some reason or another he couldn't quite place Wyatt found himself severely disappointed at the sight. Surely the man could do better, but what exactly "better" was Wyatt had no idea. 

"Wyatt."

Laura called his name sounding impatient and he moved to intercept her where she stood, waiting. He helped her take off her coat and pulled out her chair for her and she sighed heavily after sitting on it. 

"What's got you so distracted?"

"Distracted?" Wyatt asked. "I'm not distracted."

A tap on his shoulder proved to be his downfall. He turned and had to stop himself from gasping aloud at his shock. Doc stood behind him, watching both him and the people below simultaneously. He gestured with his hand at the two unoccupied seats.

"Are these here seat's taken?"

"No" Wyatt exclaimed, a little to loudly for his taste. He cleared his throat and gave a small smile. "No, not at all."

The doctor pulled out the seat for the girl first and then sat down next to Wyatt.

"That there is my girl Kate" he said. "Kate this is the man I mentioned earlier in the saloon. His name's Wyatt Earp. He's a famous sheriff from Kansas."

Wyatt's face flushed and he downed his whiskey in one go to cover it up. "Oh well, I wouldn't call myself famous. More well known than anything else."

Kate poured Doc a glass of the whiskey on the table and he tipped the whole thing back and asked for another. "Isn't she lovely?"

Wyatt smiled but it was painfully forced. Doc looked like he was getting ready to say something further but luckily for Wyatt the curtain opened up and the first act began.

Turn's out, the so called cowboys were even more rowdy than they'd originally let on. The instant the first performer stepped forward someone shot at him and they continued like that until the debut of what one of the cowboy's shouted was the "worlds prettiest man". 

"Is performing all you do?" Someone shouted and the audience erupted into laughter. He performed a monologue from a play, Shakespeare by the sound of it and when he was finished the cowboy's raised their guns and shot holes in the roof as symbol's of applause. 

Laura shook her head in what appeared to be annoyance. "God this place gives me a headache."

Wyatt was almost startled when she spoke because in truth he'd forgotten she was even there. He was so caught up in the so called "doctor" seated next to him. His eyes were drawn to him. He couldn't seem to keep his gaze anywhere else and that bothered him because the only person in his life that had ever made him do that was Angela Inwhite and she was dead and buried. And a woman. 

Down below the gunfire started up again and he lamented aloud. "They're gonna kill somebody" he said. "I just know it."

"Well" Doc drawled. He relaxed his posture and his coat came open a little exposing the twin cream colored pistols holstered on the inside. "I must admit it'll be more interesting than the proffesional entertainment."

Kate huffed and gripped his shoulders before kissing him once, on the cheek. Wyatt scowled and his foot tapped a steady rhythm on the floor. 

"Well that's an awful thing to say darling. Only the devil would say such things."

Doc pulled her by the hair and kissed her back like a man starved, never once taking his eyes off of the visibly irritated blonde retiree beside him. 

"Well darlin, I just might be the devil."

Damn right you might Wyatt thought but didn't say aloud. He didn't know what kind of game this guy was playing with him but the way he looked at him spoke of other relations besides friendship and acquaintance's. Wyatt wanted to find out what. 

//

Wyatt made his back to the Gambling Emporium after the show having parted ways with his brother's and bidding Laura a severely awful goodnight. She was complaining about her head aches again, had been since they'd first met each other but now it was an hourly thing instead of a weekly. 

He had no idea what the hell was wrong with her and neither did the doctor's but she wouldn't let up. Neither on her complaining or her usage of painkiller medicine and to be quite honest Wyatt was getting tired of it. 

Inside the Emporium he quickly found it to be bursting at the seams with men and women of all occupations. After his abrupt exchange of power earlier people had been coming in left and right. Apparently the situation had been worse than he'd thought. 

He spotted some of his new acquaintance's already at the table and Doc there as well which surprised him. 

He'd expected the man to retire home if anything else but there he was leaning over the table on his elbows, glad of whiskey in hand, watching Wyatt like a hawk as he made his way over and took his seat at the head. 

"Don't worry" the man said even though Wyatt hadn't asked. "Kate took care of it for you while you were absent."

"Why, thank you Kate" Wyatt said inclining his head. "I'm surely obliged."

The brunnette layed a hand on his arm and smiled with all her teeth. "Don't worry darlin it's nothing."

The next twenty minutes or so he spent in peace and everything was peaceful so to speak until a man came up and requested his autograph. 

Wyatt signed the bill though he didn't really want to and the man gushed over it from across the table.

"Gosh" he said, holding it up to the light. "It's a pleasure Mr Earp, my wife's not gonna believe me when she sees this. Your name's all over the south I tell you and even farther!"

Wyatt allowed a smile onto his face but quickly lost it when the Cowboy's lead posse trolled in. Listening closely throughout the day he'd learned their name's from gossip. William Brocius, Johnny Ringo and Ike Clanton. Brocius was called Curly Bill. 

Wyatt watched them carefully. Bill snatched the dollar out of the hand of the excited man and threw it back down onto the table. The man frowned but moved out of the way to stand back with the others. 

"Wyatt Earp, huh" Bill said sounding extremely unimpressed. "I heard of you."

Wyatt opened his mouth but Clanton beat him to it. He looked drunk, if the sweat on his face and his off balance stance was anything to go by. 

"Listen now Mr. Kansas Law Dog, law don't go round here. Savvy?"

Wyatt squinted and eyed the three from his seat before replying easily, "I'm retired".

Bill laughed and placed his chips and card on the table. "Good. That's real good."

"Yeah that's real good law dog" Clanton slurred. "Cuz law just don't go round here-"

Wyatt snapped. "Yeah I heard you the first time!" He flipped Bill's card over with more force than was truly necessary and called out his winnings. "Winner to the king, five hundred dollars."

He handed Bill his money and the man laughed heartily before turning icy eye's onto his drunk companion. " _Shutup_ Ike."

There was silence as the patrons stared at them, waiting. They'd gone quiet almost as soon as the posse had come in. Wyatt didn't have a fearful bone in his body but he wished greatly that his brother's were there beside him. If only Virgil hadn't gone home...

The third cowboy, Ringo, had been quiet the entire time but now he set his eyes upon the doctor and said slowly, with intent, "you must be Doc Holliday".

Doc was drunk, very drunk, this of which Wyatt and pretty much everyone else knew having watched him throw back shot after shot of whiskey for the past half hour but from the way he carried himself and the pure ice in his gaze you'd never know it, not unless he told you. 

He coughed and wiped his face once. For some reason he looked sick, just barely so and Wyatt figured it was just the liquor getting to him. 

"That's the rumor."

"You retired too?" The question sounded almost threating in nature. A short way of asking if the Cownboys would get any trouble out of him. 

"Not me" Doc responded coolly. "I'm in my prime."

Ringo smiled in a way that was almost taunting in nature. "Yeah, you look it."

"You must be Johnny Ringo" Doc said. He turned to face Kate and pointed when she smiled. "Look darlin it's Johnny Ringo, the _deadliest_ pistol layer since Wild Bill they say. What do you think darlin, should I hate him?"

Under the table Wyatt inconspicuously maneuvered his shotgun to face Ringo. Doc was drunk, he knew, and Ringo was easy to stir, he knew. He needed to be prepared in case this didn't play out right.

Kate smiled and brushed his shoulder. "You don't even know him."

Doc smirked. "Yes that's true but I don't know. There's just somethin bout him. Something light on the eyes. I don't know. Reminds me of...me. No. I'm sure of it. I hate him."

Ringo made a move forward and Wyatt stopped him with a quick hand. "He's drunk."

He turned his head and watched as Doc nursed the drink in his hand and said something in Latin. Ringo responded, much to his surprise and they conversed back and forth with each other until finally Doc turned to Kate and said lowly, "that's Latin darlin. Apparently Mr.Ringos an educated man. Now I _really_ hate him."

Before anyone could do anything Ringo drew his pistol faster than Wyatt had ever seen any man do in his life and leveled it on the doctor's head. Doc never flinched. 

Bill shook his head and let his eyes flicker across the table. "Watch it Johnny" he warned. "I heard he's _real_ fast."

Wyatt was floored. Confused even. That was the fastest draw he'd ever seen in his life and yet here Bill was warning his own partner that the sickly, drunken man standing before him was somehow faster. 

Ringo shook his head once and twirled his pistol. He pulled his hand back and twirled it again, up and over, side to side, back and forth in front of his eyes, spinning it on the uppermost parts of his fingers and then collecting it back again. The gathered crowd whistled and cheered. The man's moves were flawless, truly some of the finest pistol slinging they'd ever seen. 

The applause died. The audience looked to Doc for his response. The man tipped his cup back and downed the rest of his whiskey, and then, just like that with no warning, copied him, using nothing but his empty cup, move by move exactly as he'd performed it, drunk and sickly at that.

"Bravo! Bravo!" 

"Amazing!"

"A true Marksman."

The crowd laughed and cheered. Ringo's face fell. Many wouldn't notice it but Wyatt did, and it made him shiver. Somehow, someway, drunk off of his ass on what had to have been almost half a gallon of whiskey the man had copied him perfectly all the way down to his facial expressions. 

Wyatt had heard stories about the man. Whether they were fact or fiction was out of the question but what Wyatt was sure of was the fact that the man was dangerous, horrifyingly so, and that if he could do all of what he'd done drunk to the tip of his toes, then he was the devil sober. 

Ringo walked away from the table and Bill followed patting him on the back as though to offer him consolation. He stopped just before the door and threw the money he'd won into the air shouting, "drinks are on me!"

A thunderous cheer went up from the patrons and Doc retook his seat next to Wyatt and the blonde eyed him as he had Kate pour him yet another shot. When the man turned and winked at him with those impenetrable greens his face went red and he turned away so fast he got whiplash.

This man was, unpredictable at best. He was foreign and dark, an impossible force of which Wyatt had never encountered to push before. He was...truly a fire of which would take no other than God's wind to blow him out. He was...he was...

He was exactly what Wyatt was looking for.


	3. Roses

When Wyatt awoke first thing in the morning he bathed, got dressed and took his horse out for a ride without once looking back. He was gonna get away from that damned death ridden cottage even if it killed him.

All night he hadn't gotten any sleep. All night he lay awake listening as Laura cried and moaned about her constant headaches. 

It'd been alright, in the beginning. He'd hugged and kissed and consoled her as one should a lady in distress but then thing's had turned sour when he'd gone into his drawer to get a change of clothes and found several brand new bottles of laudanum staring back at him. 

He'd adressed her about them immediately and she'd completely dismissed him, claiming that the medicine eased her pain and that she needed it but Wyatt was no fool. He knew that something was seriously wrong with her and that there was no way in hell she needed all those bottles at the same time. 

They'd gone to bed after that but she'd woken up soon after with yet another flare up, screaming and crying and beating her fists against his chest as she accused him of all sorts of things including adultery.

"You know what I'm talkin about Wyatt!" She'd screamed. "I saw you lookin at that performer last night! That brunnette whore! You want her! I know you do! Well you can have her!" 

"What are you talkin about Laura? What woman?" 

"Dont pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about!"

"I _don't_!"

"You do!"

That'd taken them to the morning. 

//

The sound of his horse's hooves against ths ground was enough to make Wyatt's mind relax, at least for the time being. It was times like these that made him smile the brightest, when he was out and about and _free_. There was nothing else like it. 

The sun was up high, burning brightly all over the valley, turning the grass golden. Luckily he'd worn a thin shirt so the heat wasn't to much of a bother but he wished he could just take it off and throw it to the sky. He could, actually, if he wanted to.

He came up over the hilltop and spotted another rider a little ways down the slope. Bringing his horse to a slow trot he pondered on who exactly could be out riding at this ungodly hour of the morning. 

"Hello?" 

He brought his horse to a halt and the rider turned to him and tipped his hat.

"Sheriff."

Wyatt broke out into a smile and quickly coughed to cover it up. He didn't want the man thinking he was excited to see him or something. They'd only just met each other the day before. 

"Doctor."

The doctor looked much better from the night before, that he could see clearly. How in the world he'd gone from being sickly and shit faced to being up early in the morning horseback riding in the valleys Wyatt had absolutely no idea.

But he wanted to find out. 

"I wouldn't expect someone of your caliber to be out this early Doc" he said and then quickly stammered, "N-not that you couldnt it's just that-I mean, you didn't look so well last night and-"

He shut up his rambling and fell into the other man's intense gaze. 

"What brings you out here this wonderful morning Sheriff?"

Wyatt shrugged, glad for the sudden change of subject. "Oh, I don't know I just...I guess I just didn't get alot of sleep last night."

To his surprise Doc didn't ask him the details. He just nodded and looked the opposite direction, running his hand along the dark mane of his horse, twirling it around his fingers. He didn't have on a hat. The double pistols shown on his sides and his hair caught in the light of the sun, washing it in morning gold. Wyatt's curiosity got the best of him.

"You don't want to know why?"

The doctor sent him a little teasing smirk and a small tingle went through the ex sheriff's body.

"No no Mr. Sheriff I don't think I do, but if you need a relief from your troubles...I'll be your huckleberry."

He took his bottom lip between his teeth and his eyes slid across Wyatt's frame. "Ride with me Sheriff."

He dug his spur into his horse's side and took off down the opposite side of the hill. Wyatt watched him, awestruck for a moment and then his brain finally switched into the correct gear. He slapped the horse with the reigns and took of after him in a cloud of dirt. 

They chased each other for over an hour, back and forth, back and forth. Over the hills and through the fields and valley's. Over the small river's and through the tall trees and lush grass. Their horse's galloped wildly across the expanse with a certain disregard for the earth beneath them that Wyatt found himself laughing at.

He laughed and his heart skipped a beat when he looked over and saw that Doc was smiling too, even if it was only a little.

Wyatt got the best of him and continued on but stopped abruptly when he reached the top of a steep hill. 

Doc rode up beside him and asked him teasingly. "You're not afraid of a little hill are you?"

He took off down the slope and Wyatt followed after him, wind whipping his hair in his face, sun tanning his forearms where he'd rolled up his sleeves. 

The other man sped up a little and Wyatt sped up with him. They ended up at a small, shadow parted clearing Wyatt had never seen the likes of before. Fifteen feet in front of them there was a small pond bubbling with white water and all around them there lay red and white roses in full bloom. 

They got off their horse's. Doc pulled a small blanket off the back of his and layed it out on the ground before gesturing for him to sit. 

"Take a seat Sheriff" he drawled. "Don't be scared now I don't bite."

Wyatt roped his horse around the nearest tree and got down cross legged on the blanket. Doc got down with one leg flat and the other bent at the knee. He pulled a pack of matches from his pocket and lit a cigarette. The puffs of smoke wafted out to the sky and he rested his hand on the butt of his pistol. 

"Those were some fine tricks you pulled last night" he stated. "You copyin his moves and all."

"You noticed?"

The doctor's face was plain but his voice was surprised. He sounded a bit floored at the fact that the man had noticed his true intentions.

"That is what you were doing right?"

"That's what you could call it, Sheriff, though there's alot more to it than that."

"As in?"

With one swift motion snapped a rose clean off the stem and tossed it to Wyatt who's reflexes immediately kicked in. 

"Why, I can't tell you everything about me during the first meeting, can I?"

Wyatt picked the petals off the flower and tore off another, this one with the stem still intact. He threw it to Doc. "So there's gonna be a second?"

"Say when."

God, the man's accent alone was gonna be the death of him. He didn't want to come on to strong to the man, if that was what he was doing. He still wasn't sure of his true intentions but he had to know.

"That woman, Kate. She your wife?"

"I'd rather call her my partner, of sorts. I don't particularly find myself the marryin type. That woman, what was her name?"

"Laura-" 

"Laura. She your wife?"

"I'd rather call her my partner, of sorts. But I find myself the marryin type."

The doctor looked upon him for a moment before turning his gaze away. Wyatt was struck dumb by the sight of him, resting, half into the sun and half out. 

Who was this man, he thought to himself. Who was he and what was his purpose? What did he want? What did Wyatt have to offer him when he already seemed so well endowed?

//

When they got back to town they parted ways and Wyatt went to the Emporium where he quickly found his brother's. 

"Well well well" Morgan grinned. "Look who decided to show up."

"Where ya been partner?" Virgil asked. "Been lookin for you all mornin."

"Uh, nowhere."

Wyatt tucked his shirt in a little more where it'd come loose from his dismount. "Just out ridin through the valley. Didn't get any sleep last night."

Virgil nodded and lifted what looked to be a cup of coffee to his lips. "Well that makes two of us cuz I damn well didn't either."

Morgan racked the balls at the pool table and Wyatt joined him for a game. Halfway through it the door opened up and the constable stepped through. Before he could even say anything Wyatt cut him off with a harsh "no and that's final".

Lou stepped beside him. "But Wyatt you must think that-"

"He said no" Morgan grumbled. He took his shot and landed both ball's in the pocket. 

Wyatt nodded to him and maneuvered around the table. He lined up his shot and took it. He missed. 

Lou stood there for a long moment with his hands in his pockets looking between the three of them and then with great reluctance backed away from the table and left the saloon. 

Wyatt combed his fingers through his hair and trained his gaze to the floor. "I don't know what it's gonna take to make him realize that's not what we came here for."

Over and over Lou had been coming to him and asking him the same question. Would he and his brother's like to form law in the town and become the deputy's. And the answer was the same everytime. No. 

Wyatt had already said it and he was tired of saying it over and over and over again. He was retired. He didn't do that sheriff's business anymore. He was free. He'd given up his job back in Kansas solely because he wanted to live the rest of his life out normal. And his brother's too. It irritated him that that damn constable couldn't understand it. 

"You know, they'll keep askin us until we agree" Morgan sighed. 

"Yeah" Wyatt spit. "And we'll keep saying no. That's not what we're here for."

Virgil was silent but Wyatt could see the gears turning in his head. He hoped to God his eldest brother wasn't buying into that crap. That was the last thing he needed on this trip.

"I heard Laura's upset" Morgan said. "What's that all about?"

Wyatt frowned. "It's those damn headache's she keeps talking about. I don't understand it. The doctors said there's nothin wrong with her but she insists on swallowin up that medicine."

Virgil stood up and came to them. His face was grave. That compared with his almost entirely grey hair made him seem suddenly much older than he really was. "How much?"

"Ten bottles" Wyatt said. "Ten bottles I found in my drawer last night and they're dissapearin like shots of whiskey."

Virgil twisted his beard. "Well, I could send Mattie over to watch her when we're not around" he said. 

Morgan nodded. "Louisa'll go to. She like's the company."

"I'm beholden to the both of you" Wyatt said. "I just don't know what to do with her anymore."

"Maybe" Virgil said slowly. He paused as if calculating his words and then continued. "Maybe it's time for you to let her go. I mean, let's be honest, you don't seem to into her anyways."

Silence.

"Yeah" Wyatt said. "Yeah, yeah, I know. But that ain't no way to leave a lady. Especially when she's sick."

"Troubling time's these are I'll tell you that."


	4. War

The saloon was quiet, save for the lilting piano music coming from underneath Docs fingers. He was shit faced again, Wyatt could tell. And yet still he played beautifully on the horribly out of tune piano, Kate's chest rising and falling as she rested silently on his back. 

Another cowboy, one close in standings with Bill and Ringo came up, swaying drunkenly from side to side, and settled himself next to Doc. Wyatt knew his name to be Billy. 

"Hey" He slurred. "Hey whats that?" What's that your playin? Is that ole dog Trey? That sounds like ole dog Trey." 

Doc lifted his head to look at him but continued playing, his fingers moving gently of their own accord. "Pardon?"

"You know...Steven Foster, Ole Susanna."

Doc was silent for a full thirty seconds before he spoke again and when he did his tome sounded offended. "No" he said. "This happens to be a nocturne."

"A what?"

"You know, Frederick _fucking_ Chopin."

The people laughed. Wyatt cracked a smile. He went to deal a man his cards when a gun shot rang out outside followed rapidly by several more. There came the sound of a strange howling in the wind and then Plum entered with a woman on his shoulders looking shaken. 

Wyatt and Fred, the town Marshal, shared a look. Lou frowned.

"Well" Plum huffed. "While all of you are in here playing fancy that cowboy's out there tearin up my town. Somebody's gotta do something!"

Lou rolled his eyes and downed the rest of his whiskey in one gulp. "Oh I believe you're the Sheriff."

Plums face reddened and he frowned. "No no no this is not county business this is a _town_ matter." He looked to Fred and inclined his head to him. "Marshall."

Another gunshot rang out, closer, and Wyatt sipped his coffee. Fred looked around dejectedly and the blonde knew he really didn't want to to go out there, that he'd rather do literally anything else.

"Why don't you just leave it alone?" He asked. 

In his experience it'd always been best to just leave situations like this alone. For the only thing that happened when you addressed them was trouble. Trouble that nobody wanted or needed. 

Another shot rang out and the old man stood, placing one hand on his pistol. "No, no I uh...I gotta do somethin."

He left slowly, each of his short waddling steps like a knot in the heart and Wyatt eyed the Mayor from afar. What a goddamn coward. He was the the Sheriff and yet he lay the town's entire burden on the shoulders of one elderly Marshall.

Lou was in the window. A shot rang out right outside the saloon and he jumped shouting. "Bill shot Fred!"

Wyatt's Sheriff instincts kicked in and he jumped up and grabbed his pistol and flew out the door. When he got outside Fred was on the ground bleeding out and Bill was standing over him, his face plastered with a goofy drunken smile. 

Wyatt wasted no time and knocked him down on the ground. The townsfolk poured out from their porches and shops and gathered around uselessly in a mob. Their shouts echoed in the night.

"Bill got ole Fred!"

"He shot the Marshall!"

"Get everybody off the streets!"

"He killed Fred!"

Wyatt stood slowly with his pistol drawn and spoke firmly to the crowded spectator's, taking Bill by the collar of his shirt and dragging him upwards, "alright back off."

"Get a rope!" One man shouted angrily. "String em up!"

"Nobody's hangin anybody" Wyatt declared. 

"He just killed a man!"

"And he'll stand trial for it, now get back! _Move_!"

The spectators remained and to his dismay more people started pouring out. Wyatt had been in enough situations like this back in Kansas to know that this whole situation was headed nowhere but down. 

"Turn em loose."

At the sound of someone's gruff voice he turned and faced none other than Ike who was stalking towards him through the crowd. He tightened his grip on Bills collar. 

"He said to turn em loose."

Billy walked down the saloon steps and began walking towards him from the opposite side. More cowboy's began appearing from the mass, their identities plain with their red sashes. 

Wyatt took a step back. His heart was racing but his face was calm, he'd trained himself well enough over the years to remain stoic, even in the face of certain death.

"Well I'm not...so go home."

Ike grinned, a sinister grin that raised the hair on the back of his neck. "I swear to God, Law Dog, you don't step aside and we'll tear you apart."

Wyatt waited until the man was almost to him and then leveled his pistol on his head. Ike froze.

"You die first get it?" Wyatt hissed. "Your friend's might get me in a rush but not before I turn your head into a canoe, you understand me?"

"He's bluffin" Billy growled. "Let's rush em."

"No!" Ike said yelling. There was fear in his eyes and Wyatt could see it. It gave him strength. "He ain't bluffin."

Wyatt nodded. "You're not as stupid as you look Ike. Now tell em to fall back."

"Go on now, get back. Go on! Billy! He'll kill me, go on!"

Billy didn't move and neither did his boy's. Wyatt tightened his grip yet again and glanced nervously at his surroundings. If help didn't come soon he was in trouble. He had the townsfolk on one end wanting Bill to hang and the Cowboy's on the other demanding the drunks immediate release.

He prepared to fire a warning shot but right when he placed his finger on the trigger, Doc strolled down the steps with his gun drawn. 

Wyatt's eyes widened. How long had he been standing there? What was he doing?

The effect of the man's arrival was immediate and many people backed away to make room for his wake. It wasn't that they thought he was more influential than Wyatt it was just that Wyatt was less likely to kill them all. 

Doc pointed his gun at Billy and said slowly, "-and you, music lover, you're next. 

Wyatt frowned. What the hell was he doing? Why was he _helping_ him?"

Billy smiled and laughed. "Ha, drunk piano player. You're so drunk you can't hit nothin. In fact..."

He pulled a long serated butcher knife out of his belt and brandished it for all to see. "You're probably seein double."

Doc drew his other gun and wielded them both flipping them cleanly in opposite directions and smiling. The cup in his hand never flinched.

"Well, I have _two_ guns. One for each of you."

His eyes floated to Wyatt and he held the mans gaze momentarily. 

The crowd scattered thrirty feet away and Virgil and Morgan came into view, each carrying a loaded weapon. 

Virgil lifted his shot gun and fired once into the air, yelling as he did so. "Back it up now! Back up! go on, go home!"

When they reached Wyatt they held there guns on the heads of the cowboy's and for a moment nobody moved. Billy's eyes flitted back and forth and then once again landed on Doc. He eyed the man for a second and then eyed his unwavering double pistols before nodding his head and stepping backwards. 

"Alright fall back! Fall back I said! Fall back!"

The cowboy's retreated. Wyatt shoved Ike backwards and the man spit heavily in his direction. 

"I'll see you soon" he said darkly. "I'll see you soon."

//

Fred was dead, and scheduled for burial the next day. Bill had gone to trial but the judge had named him not guilty on a count of having no witnesses to the murder although Wyatt knew and everyone else knew that half the town had seen it happen. 

"This whole towns rigged" Morgan spit. 

They were back in the saloon but all was quiet and there was no music playing. There was nothing, save for the eerie clink of a glass every now and then. 

Most everyone had gone home. Now all that was left was, Wyatt, his brother's, the bartender, Doc, and Kate. 

Morgan slapped his glass down on the table. "From what you said half the town saw it. They _all_ saw it and yet he ain't guilty?"

"It's out of our hands now" Wyatt sighed.

He was done with the whole situation already. He'd already gone far enough by attempting to reign in the crowd, doing any more would acertain their involvement which they didn't need. "Ain't nothing we can do to set it straight."

Virgil stood up suddenly and excused himself and Wyatt watched him go. He and Morgan exchanged glances.

"I'll go talk to him" the brunnette said, and left.

Doc got up a moment later and walked up but to Wyatt's surprise Kate didn't follow him.

"You gonna just let him wander all by himself?"

"He never wanders" Kate smiled. "Doc can stay up all day and all night and more after. The only time he goes down...is when he wants to."

Wyatt gathered the cards on the table and shuffled them through his fingers. She seemed like she'd known him a long time, maybe even longer. Maybe he was just seeing things. Maybe Doc was just messing with him for kicks. 

"You're thinking to hard" Kate said suddenly. "I can hear it from here."

She picked up her glass and swirled it's contents around in a slow circle. "It's about Doc isn't it?"

Wyatt's face flushed. Was he really that obvious? 

"W-what makes you think that?"

Kate continued to gaze upon him knowingly and he broke, sighing and setting the deck down on the table.

"Why did he help me earlier?" He asked.

Kate smiled. "Of course you ask me the question I don't know the answer to. I couldn't give you an answer, honestly. The only thing I know is that Doc is not the helping type. You're the first I've seen and I've been with him for a long time."

"But why?" Wyatt said groaning. "Why me?"

"I don't know. All I know is that he's taken a liking to you."

"A liking?"

"The way he looks at you is different. He's never looked at me that way. He wants you."

Wyatt gazed at her through confused yet hopeful eyes. He hoped to God she was telling the truth. He hoped and hoped and hoped until his heart strings readied to burst. "So?"

Kate stood and with her took the money and poker chips Doc had won. Where she'd take the chips he had no idea. Maybe she'd bring them back tomorrow.

She swallowed down another shot of whiskey and shrugged. "So he'll have you darlin...you're _his_."


	5. Plea

Wyatt was halfway through a cup of coffee when a hard knock on the door damn near made him drop it. He set the cup down and yelled.

"Who is it!"

He glanced at Laura's sleeping figure and stood. He hoped the knock didn't wake her but his yelling might've. Lord knows it'd taken him all day to get her to go to sleep.

The door swung wide against his hand and he stared eye to eye with Josephine, the brunette actor he'd met after the show his first night in town. The one Laura had accused him of having aldultery with.

"Yes?"

"Come quick" the woman huffed. Her voice and breathing told him she'd ran to get there.

"It's your brother" she said. "He's come up with some new law and the people are upset."

Wyatt raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Law? What law? Why is he making laws?"

"Didnt you hear?" Josephine whispered. "He's the new town deputy."

Wyatt swore. "Son of a _bitch_!"

// 

Wyatt rode into the town square like the devil was behind him. Virgil was there, standing in front of the Sheriff's office, just like Josephine said he would be and, low and behold, he had that damn silver star attached to his coat. 

Wyatt jumped off his horse and quickly knotted the reigns to the nearest pole. By the time he reached his eldest brother he was nothing short of livid.

"What in the hell are you doin?" He hissed. "I told you we weren't gettin involved."

Virgil made a face. "You got us involved when you brought us here."

He walked inside and Wyatt followed him, not to be outdone by a few short word's. Morgan was standing there with his back turned to them but turned around when they entered. 

Wyatt scowled. "Now you hold on a minute verge-"

"Hold on nothin! I walk across this town and look these people in the eye and it's just like someone's slappin me in the face! These people are afraid to walk down the street and I'm not tryna make money off that like some goddamn vulture!"

He eyed the two of them back and forth. "If we're gonna make a future in this town it's gotta have some law and order."

Wyatt pinched the bridge of his nose and growled in frustration. "Please Verge, dont do this to me."

"It's got nothing to do with _you_ Wyatt! It's got to do with-"

"Nothin to do with me?" Wyatt exploded. "I'm your brother for Christ sake! God. I don't believe this." He turned to Morgan with pain in his eyes and said seriously, "Talk to him will you? Or hit em."

Morgan remained silent. The look on his face told Wyatt everything he needed to know so when the brunnette opened up his coat to reveal a neatly pinned silver star Wyatt almost broke down in tears.

"Oh God don't tell me" he muttured.

Morgan gave a small smile. "Like you said Wyatt, were brother's. Gotta back your brother's play. Just like I thought you would."

Wyatt was done. He was all done. Dammit, he'd had a play. He'd had a play for them to all settle down and finally have a normal family but now that was all ruined because Virgil wanted to have a little moral heart and because Morgan had no mind of his own. 

He stormed over to the door and slammed it shut. 

"Now you listen to me. For the first time in our lives we gotta chance to stop wanderin and finally be a family. This is trouble we don't need. You saw what happened to Fred White."

Morgan shook his head. "We know what we're doin Wyatt."

Wyatt took a deep breath but it did nothing to calm him. "Ok" he said. "Say you're right. Say you don't get yourselves killed. There's something else. All those years I was mixed up in all those cow town's I was only ever mixed up in one fight, just one, but a man lost his life and I took it."

He pleaded with his eyes for them to change their minds. Morgan especially. He'd never taken a life although Wyatt was younger. 

"You don't know how that feels Morg. Believe me you don't ever want to know. Not ever."

His two older brother's exchanged glances but said nothing further in response. 

//

Wyatt stormed across the open valley in the dark. His horse's hooves pounded the ground and disrupted the silence and he relished in it. 

Why was it always him? What could he never get what he wanted but his brother's could? Why was it "backing your brothers play" when it came to Virgil but not when it came to him?

He gave his horse a rest in a small secluded clearing full of tree's. The nearest one he punched with all his might, again and again and again until his energy wore out and he collapsed in the cool dirt. 

His fingers closed around a pile of splintered bark and he let it sift through and down to the ground. 

Why couldn't he have his happiness? What had he done to have a sick wife, a wandering spirit and a dangerous forbidden attraction to a very dangerous man with a checkered past. 

"I can't do it" he said aloud. "I can't do it."

He stared up at the sky, a deep wonderous mixture of blue and purple and black. The moon was out but it was only a sliver and barely that. The star's shown around it like a sparkling Halo and good _God_ were they bright.

He closed his eyes and pictured his brother's. He pictured their faces, Morgan smiling that bright cheesy grin of his and Virgil sporting that same permanent frown. He remembered when they were little and they'd made a blood pact in the sand to never part. To always stick together no matter what and to die with the truth.

He could do it, he could, for his brother's. 

"I'll do it" he said aloud and his word was final. "I'll do it."


	6. Draw

It was five days until the next "incident" came to be and it all happened as a result of their new anti-gun law. 

Wyatt had been midway through his breakfast when his brother's had come to get him. From what they'd told him they were on their way to the O.K. Corral to disarm the cowboy's who, for some reason, refused to obey the new rules. 

It was suspicious, the timing, the setting, all of it and Wyatt wanted no parts in them _or_ their gathering but the silver badge on his coat told him otherwise. It was his job now as a deputy of Tombstone. It was his duty to both the people and his brother's. 

There was four of them in total, Wyatt, Morgan, Virgil and Doc with Virgil in the lead. Wyatt was surprised Doc was even there, especially considering the fact that he hadn't seen the man since the night of he and his brother's argument. 

But he'd shown up and volunteered himself to the cause and Virgil and Morgan had excepted him with open arms which made Wyatt suspicious since his brother's weren't the types to just accept anybody. In fact, he was sure he'd seen the three of them talking amongst themselves more than once. That had to account for something. 

Wyatt had told the doctor, of course, that he didn't have to involve himself in their trouble to which the man had stood back with his hand over his heart and proclaimed almost offendedly, "what an ugly thing for you to say to me."

//

Doc whistled emotionlessly as he walked with his left hand hidden underneath his cloak. Beneath the fabric Wyatt and his brother's were very well aware that there lay concealed a fully loaded double barrel shotgun. 

It was the exact same one Wyatt had demanded of the angry ex card dealer the first day of his arrival, he was sure of it. 

Up ahead of them, tumbleweeds rolled along in the dirt. The town was silent except for the whines of a few miscellaneous horse's here and there. 

"How the hell did we get ourselves into this" he muttured. 

At the sound of loud yelling and banging all four swiveled around to face their attacker but it turned out to just be some stupid fun seeking kid. 

"Go on!" Morgan yelled angrily and Wyatt could tell by the shake in his voice that it'd spooked him. "Get! Damn kid."

They neared the corner of the Corral and Plum came bursting from around the corner. "You don't have to worry" he said quickly. "I just went over there and disarmed them."

Wyatt raised a brow. Disarmed them? He didn't even have any weapons on him. 

Virgil snorted. " _You_ did? I don't think so."

"Gentleman" the man continued actively attempting to put more baritone in his voice. "I'm not gonna allow any trouble."

The four men ignored him and continued walking. He was a low down coward and besides, the decision had already been made. 

When they rounded the corner the cowboy's were standing there unawares but Ike spotted them from over the water barrel. 

Doc dropped his cloak and wielded his shotgun. A few of the men turned and hightailed it at the sight of him.

"We're here to disarm you!" Virgil called. "Throw up your hands!"

The cowboy's hand's moved to their guns and the trio of four froze as stiff as boards. " _Hold_!" Virgil said yelling. "It's not what I want!" 

All the men froze. Behind them and all around the town the people pannicked and ran for shelter. For a long moment the two sides did nothing but stare, ice cold gazes that could melt the sun if they just so happened to turn upon it. 

Wyatt wanted the fight to end with no bloodshed. The less people they killed, the better. He eyed Billy who was staring intently at Doc. After their first confrontation at the saloon it wasn't really news that their relationship wasn't all that hot. 

The kids face was scared, maybe a little confused and then suddenly, as he gazed upon the half drunken doctor, it morphed from horror to anger and then finally, to rage. 

"Oh my God."

Billy drew. The shooting commenced and the first man Wyatt dropped was Tom McLowry. He fell over and Wyatt aimed for the next man, wincing at the loud ear piercing sound of guns being fired a mere few feet away from his ears. 

Morgan shot, and hit. One man on the cowboy's side took a bullet and stumbled into the water barrel. Another fired a few shots and then made a move to get onto his horse but Doc was waiting for him. He fired one shot into the air to scare the horse and put the other dead center in the man's chest. 

They fired back and forth for what seemed like an eternity in a fire blaze of gunpowder and smoke until finally one of the men got the best of Virgil who went down gasping with a bullet in the leg. Wyatt pannicked and killed the man but not even ten seconds later another man got the best of Morgan who fell shouting with a bullet in his right arm. 

Wyatt's mind blanked and the only thing in his vision was red. Those were his brothers. Those were his brothers for Christ's sakes and he'd die by the bullet before he let them get mowed down on the ground. One man went down and then another and then another and then another.

Ike ran out from behind the tipped over water barrel but his hands were raised and he was screaming. "Stop! No! Noooo! Don't shoot! I ain't got no gun! _Pleeaassee_ don't shoot me I ain't got no gun!"

He wrapped his arms around Wyatt's leg's and fell to his knees. Wyatt kicked him off with a growl. "Damnit Ike, get to fightin or get away!" 

Billy aimed for him but Doc rapid fired and unloaded half his bullet's into his chest. He ducked to reload.

The man had long since dropped his shotgun and pulled out his double pistols. Wyatt concentrated his fire on the men in front of him but was caught entirely off guard when Ike suddenly burst half his body through the window of the neighboring building and started shooting blindly. 

"Billy, _Billy_! You son's of bitches, it ain't over yet!"

"Doc! Doc behind us in the window!"

Doc crossed behind him and starting shooting. Wyatt took down another man and the windows shattered under the constant rain of bullets. And then suddenly...there was silence. 

Wyatt knelt down to check on his brother's and one stray cowboy, the only one left, raised his gun and aimed it at him. A dark shadow crossed in front of him and it was none other than Doc. 

The man caught the cowboy's line of sight and drew his attention away from Wyatt. He fired one of his pistols and it came up blank. 

The cowboy raised his gun. His voice was low and sinister as he declared loudly, "I've got you now, you son of a bitch."

Doc raised his arm's with an almost jovial expression on his face. "You're a daisy if you do."

At the last second Doc moved his arm and shot him in the chest. Another shot hit the man from below at the same time, in the head. He fell. Wyatt looked down and Morgan stared up at him before nodding his head once and falling back onto the ground. 

Wyatt grabbed him. "Somebody get some help! Get some help, now!" 

The doctor's and nurse's poured out upon his hysterical request and Wyatt, useless as he was, was pushed out of the way and off to the side where he wouldn't hinder them from doing their jobs. 

He holstered his pistol. Not knowing what else to do and unable to bear the sight of his brother's lying there on the ground he looked around for Doc but couldn't find him. 

Lou came around the corner and Wyatt grabbed him by the shoulder's. "Doc" he said. "Where's Doc, have you seen him?"

Lou pointed to a small red building a little ways down the road and Wyatt trialed his gaze. "He went in there."

Wyatt raced off without even thanking the man and burst into the house with a certain wild disregard for privacy that he hadn't had since he was a child. Doc was standing in the center of the room when he entered and he reached stunningly fast for his pistol before noticing it was just him and dropping his hand like someone had burned it.

Wyatt eyed him curiously, noticing the unusually slow way he was moving and that's when he saw it. The side of Doc's shirt and vest was torn slightly and blood was slowly soaking through the fabric.

"Are you alright?" He asked. "Do you need some help?"

"Why Wyatt" Doc said smirking. "I'm a doctor."

"You're a dentist" Wyatt snapped. "I've heard the stories."

He helped the man to the nearest chair and rolled up his vest and shirt in order to better see the wound. Luckily, the bullet had only just grazed him, but still it was bleeding pretty heavily and it'd be best for the man in his condition if it was stopped. 

Wyatt took the right sleeve of the man's shirt and ripped it clean off at the middle. "I'll buy you another one" he said and the doctor smiled and said in that condescending way of his, "Don't you know Sheriff? I'm a rich man."

Wyatt pressed the fabric into his side which thankfully shut him up.Doc closed his eyes for a moment and re-opened them but surprisingly didn't flinch. Wyatt moved his hand so that it pressed firmly against the fabric and went off in search of a needle and thread. 

Tossing random objects left and right he found what he was looking for a few minutes later in one of the nearby drawers. Due to his excitement, worry, and the adrenaline still coursing through him it took him a grand total of five tries to get the thread through the wide open needle. 

When that was over he made his way back over to Doc and nealt down on one knee before eyeing him apologetically.

"I wish I had some whiskey for you."

Back in Kansas, he'd gotten into many a scratch up and, as there weren't doctor's and nurse's near him at all times, had tought himself how to significantly halt the bleeding in a wound and even how to stitch it up though he had to admit, with all his year's and year's of practice he was still mediocre at best but this would have to do, for now. 

He cancelled out the noise of the outside world and put himself to the task. Doc made neither noise or movement to indicate he felt anything and so the young blonde found himself eyeing him every couple of seconds or so to make sure he was doing okay. 

When he finished Wyatt tied off the thread and removed his hands and Doc sat there, unmoving, like a statue. 

The retired dentist's dark green eyes were heated as he gazed upon him from where he sat and even though he was seated below Wyatt and therefore at the bottom it still seemed to the other man from his mannerisms and his aura that he was on the top. 

"T-that um...that wound should do just fine. I'm-I'm uh, I'm no doctor but it should be good enough."

"No" Doc drawled. "You're not a doctor are you. You're a Sheriff." 

"I'm no Sheriff Doc" Wyatt chuckled. 

"Then tell me, what is it that you are."

Wyatt lost his smile and gazed at the golden rays of sunlight coming in throught the window as he fumbled and tried to come up with his answer.

"I'm, I'm just a simple man from Kansas tryna live a normal life."

//

That night Wyatt's sex drive was so through the roof that he almost ripped Laura's nightgown to shreds trying to get it off of her. 

"Wyatt" she gasped, moaning breathlessly as he took the skin of her breast between his teeth. "Wyatt what's gotten into you? You haven't been like this since we left Kansas."

He shushed her and parted the smooth, water like fabric of her nightgown, relishing the feel of the linen against his skin. 

When he entered her he started up a wild pace, careful not to look at her face and she gripped him tightly and moaned his name to the ceiling. 

It did nothing. 

Afterwards Laura quickly fell asleep and Wyatt lie there next to her on his back, staring up at the ceiling...and he felt... nothing. He'd orgasmed, just barely, but it'd done not one damn thing to ease the pleasure hungry fever rushing through his body. 

Laying there, with only the ceiling for company it got to the point eventually where he just couldn't fucking take it anymore and he went into the living room to take care of himself, alone. 

At the first slow pump of his flushed cock he shuddered and a full body wash of pleasure went over him, down to his toes and all the way up to the nape of his neck. 

He did it again, and then again, each time more rewarding than the last. Finding his rythm in the dark he stroked himself higher and higher, coming closer and closer and _closer_ to that much needed release. 

What was it? What was it that he needed to reach the edge? He closed his eyes and let his mind take over his body. He invisioned a pair of eyes staring at him through a thin mist, but they weren't blue as he'd expected them to be. No, no they weren't blue. They were green.

Doc's body and face materialized before him without warning and he whined low in his throat as his body responded instantly to the forbidden image. 

He imagined Doc on him, in the darkness, body flush against his own as he leaned over him and made love to him in the sheets. As he ran his hands over his touch starved body and whispered sweet nothings into his ear and plowed him recklessly into the sheets like the goddamn _filthy_ country boy he was. 

"Shit. Shit."

The image was so real. It was almost as if the man was actually there in the room with him. Wyatt threw his head back against the couch and lost himself in his own twisted vision. 

Doc smirked and his dark viridian eye's were on fire. He murmured, "I'll be your huckleberry" and the instant he did so Wyatt let go of everything he had in favor of the most electifying orgasm he'd ever experienced in his life.

" _Shit_."


	7. Confrontation

The cowboy's passed in the distance in a single line precession, carrying with them the wooden coffins of their fallen members and Wyatt could've swore it felt like he was being punched in the gut.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this" he said aloud and whether or not he was talking to himself or to his brother's was up for furious debate. 

Virgil's face was grave. His leg had been bandaged and medicated and now he was hobbling around on a cane. Wyatt could tell it was killing his pride to do so but there was also no way he was gonna wait for it to heal before he started moving around again. 

Morgan on the other hand had his arm wrapped up in a sling. It didn't seem to hinder him to much. He still picked Louisa up and swung her around in the air and he still beat Wyatt in pool. Everytime. 

As far as Wyatt was concerned Doc was somewhere in town either drinking or gambling. He'd been avoiding the other man for about a day or so, much to embarrassed with what he'd done to look him properly in the face. 

The tensions were high. Between Wyatt, his brother's, Doc and the cowboy's, everybody was on high alert. 

Their act wouldn't go without retaliation he was sure. He'd had enough close calls back in Kansas to be aware of the fact. The only question was when the cowboy's would strike and whether or not they'd be ready when they did. 

Morgan turned away. "I killed a couple of em" he said. "I killed em Wyatt, but, but God damn it I didn't feel no different yesterday but now I-I just don't-"

Wyatt patted him on the back in an effort to console him. He knew what it feel like taking a life. You didn't really feel it when it happened. It took a couple of days or at least it took until you saw the casket for it to finally get into your head that you killed someone. 

Across the lot many of the cowboy's were carrying boquets of red flower's. They were glaring at them, their eyes mere slits as they marked the brother's up and down with their hate. 

"This ain't what I wanted" Virgil grumbled. "This ain't what I wanted. Now we really got trouble."

Wyatt had never wanted to say "I told you so" anymore in his life than he did right now but he didn't. Now wasn't the time. There'd be plenty of time for rubbing it in their faces later after this whole fiasco blew over. 

"Well" he said slowly. "We got each other in the long run. That's about all we need."

//

A few days later most of the men in town met up at the saloon after nightfall, mostly for gossip and gambling and to stand around with their ears pealed for any news of further trouble between the cowboy's and the lawman while also listening to the beautiful Josephine who sang a pretty plaintive ballad over by the piano.

Wyatt's fingers twitched constantly underneath the table. He could barely go for two minutes without getting the sudden dreadful feeling that someone was coming for him. 

Doc was there, of course, and Wyatt was through the roof with excitement although he would never admit it. 

The retired Doctor was at the table once again playing cards and drinking, proceeding to beat everyone and anybody who dared to sit down by a long shot. 

Wyatt wasn't actually sure whether or not he was cheating. He never said anything to suggest it and his eyes gave nothing away, drunk or not drunk though Wyatt had a feeling he was never really sober, so there was nothing the deputy could do when some man or another accused him of cheating.

What he was sure of though was that the mans periodical fits of coughing and hacking were growing worse and worse as the day went on. Wyatt wasnt sure, but he was starting to believe the man's cold wasn't really a cold at all. 

Kate was always beside him though. She was always leaning over his shoulder and smiling in his face, pouring him another shot of whiskey whenever he ran out. 

"Wyatt."

"Have another one" she said, wrapping her long slender finger's around his shoulder and the ex sheriff bristled bristled. "My loving man."

" _Wyatt_."

Wyatt tore his gaze away. Morgan did a little jog to get to him and bent his head down to whisper dishearteningly, "Wyatt. Doc won't quit. He's been at it for thirty-six hour's straight. Glenn and the McClary brother's came in an hour ago. I tried to get him to go to bed but he won't let go-"

"No" Wyatt said. "And _nobody_ can make him."

He didn't know why Morgan was coming to him with it. As if Doc would listen to him where he wouldn't listen to anyone else. He didn't mean anything to the man so why would he?

With all reluctance he made his way over to the table and Doc, and the instant the man turned those dark greens upon him, flushed all the way to the roots of his hair. 

"Wyatt" the man drawled cocking his head to the side in a drunken manner. "Just in time. Pull up a chair."

Wyatt rested his hand on the man's shoulder and whispered carefully. "Say Doc you been hittin it awful hard haven't you?"

"Nonsense. I have not yet begun to defile myself."

"Like I said earlier" Kate smiled. "Doc can go all day and night and then some."

"What say you, me, and some of the other guy's go head on over to-" 

"I will not be pawed at, thank you very much."

"Right, sorry." 

Wyatt patted him once on the shoulder and took the seat next to him, shooting Morgan an apologetic look across the table. It was out of his hands now and he wasn't gonna force him to move. Doc was a full grown man, an unpredictable one at that. Wyatt had lost this battle. 

"Hey." 

Walter Pine was seated at the table looking even more irritated than usual. He was a big man, with a shiny sheen to his face and a beard that seemed to be falling apart. Not to mention he wasnt to far into the bright side of things. 

He'd been sitting there for the better part of an hour playing against Doc and the man had beat him every single time from what Wyatt could see. 

"Hey" the man grumbled. " _Loving man._ You been called."

Wyatt reached a hand in his coat and pulled out the cash that would go to the winner. 

Doc turned away from Kate and flipped his cards over looking smug. It was a royal flush. 

He looked at Wyatt and then his cards and giggled laughing as he gripped the table and scattered them haphazardly in a circle. " _Oops_."

Wyatt and Morgan cracked a smile each. The other men at the table threw their card's down in disgust. Virgil shook his head and snorted before finishing his drink.

Doc leaned forward and put his arms out to collect the money and poker chips but Walter froze him with a firm hand on his wrist. 

"What is that now?" He growled. "That twelve hand's in a row Holliday? Son of a bitch nobody's that lucky."

He shoved the man's hand away and Doc smiled. "Why Walter _whatever_ do you mean?" 

"Take it easy boy's" Virgil warned. 

Doc scraped up the cash and chips. Kate offered him another drink and he pushed it away. "Maybe pokers just not your game Walter."

He grinned suddenly and Wyatt braced himself. "I know. Let's have a _spelling_ _contest_."

Walter started forward and Wyatt and Virgil worked together to stop him.

"You takin his part, huh?" Walter growled. " _I'm_ the one who got cheated! You God damn pimps! You're all in it together."

"Nobody's in anything Pine you're just drunk" Virgil stated blandly. "Go home and sleep it off."

Wyatt backed off some but Virgil put a hand to his shoulder I order to guide him. He slapped Virgil's hand away and spit. "Dont you _ever_ try to man handle a cowboy or we'll cut your goddamn pimps heart out. You understand me!" 

"Oh don't you threaten me you little son of a bitch!" 

Wyatt pushed his way in between them and shoved the man backwards. "I don't know who in the hell you think you are talkin to my goddamn brother like that but it's on you to quit. You touch my brother one more time and I'll blow you back so many feet you won't be about to count em."

The silence was defeaning. 

"I may not be able to draw to quick" he continued. "But I damn well know how to handle a pistol, is that clear?"

"Yeah" the man said shrugging. He glanced around anxiously and frowned.

"Yeah alright...pimp. We'll get you soon enough. You, your brother's and your..."

He glanced backwards at Doc but and when the man raised an eyebrow in question, dropped the rest of his sentence. 

He collected his guns from the bartender and stormed out through the double doors and into the night. Wyatt shook his head. "God damnit sometimes I just can't stand this place." 

Plum appeared from around the corner looking entirely to smug for his liking.

He eyed Wyatt and said lazily, "Well that's quite the thing to say when you took this place over for yourself. You know, maybe your brothers wouldn't be in their...situations so to speak if you weren't so selfish."

"Why you son of a bitch-"

Wyatt leaped at him but Morgan and Virgil stopped him. Wyatt struggled with the two of them for a moment until he calmed down a little and eventually quit. 

Plum chuckled as though to taunt him but Wyatt made no move further. The man was a trap waiting to be sprung and Wyatt knew it. All it took was one hit for the townsfolk to turn further against him. 

All the way back at the table, Doc stood. He strolled up to the group of men, without Kate, and Wyatt was shocked to see that he looked undeniably sober. 

"Why, pardon me for the intrusion Mr. Sheriff" he said speaking to Plum "but I think it'd be best in this situation if you...didn't speak."

Plum backed away. 

Doc locked eye's with Wyatt and went out the door. Wyatt looked back and forth between the gathered men and then left the building after him. 


	8. Deeper

Wyatt pannicked the instant he got outside because Doc was nowhere to be seen and he thought for a moment that maybe he'd just imagined the whole look and leave scenario. But then he kept walking and Doc appeared from the shadows, standing there for a few moments while eying him before turning around and continuing on his way.

Wyatt followed. 

He was waiting for me, he thought. He was waiting to see if I'd come.

The man led him through the quiet town around the back alleys to the stable's where he entered the building and left Wyatt with nothing to do but go inside as well. 

The retired Sheriff's steps were careful, yet deliberate. He wanted the other man to know that he was there so that if there was some sort of misunderstanding between them he could easily be spotted and told off.

But no such word's came. Doc saddled up and mounted his horse. He stopped right next to Wyatt and when he looked down his face was as calm as the man had ever seen it in their week or so of knowing eachother.

"You gonna saddle up Sheriff or you just gonna stand there lookin at me?"

Wyatt's brain short circuited but luckily his body made the decision to go for him and he _moved_.

He quickly saddled his horse and steered in the direction of the entry. Doc took off as soon as he did and Wyatt was left floundering in the dust. He layed down the reins. 

Much like the first time their back and forth chase between cat and mouse took them through the forest and hills and over the Valley's. Wyatt had to admit that the lush scenery was still overwhelmingly gorgeous, even at night. 

His adrenaline had caught him and now held him fast.

He was giddy with excitement and worry and fear, none of which were any help in calming his wildly out of place nerves, not that he thought they'd be. 

It was just amazing to him what this one man alone was making him feel. He'd never felt like this before. _Never,_ not with Laura or with Josephine or any other girl he'd met before them. He wasn't _supposed_ to. He was supposed to belong to a woman. To marry her and take care of her and start up a family of which they'd raise together.

But he didn't care.

Riding his horse over the earth and feeling the wind blowing heavily against his skin while chasing after this mysterious man with a checkered past he didn't care. Even knowing the fact that what he was supposedly doing now could get him killed. 

//

They rode all the way to the clearing from their first ride, the one with the rose's. Wyatt tied up his horse and let his feet carry him across the ground and underneath the shade of the trees.

The setting was different but the feeling was the same. Wyatt didn't know how to describe it, he wasn't a poet, but there was just something about the mixture of a mysterious man and roses in the dark that made his heart skip a few beats. 

He walked over to Doc. The man stood there with his arm's crossed behind his back and his back facing him. Wyatt half expected him to say something funny or to make a comment about the scenery but the only thing he said was a quick and emotionless, "I'm dyin."

Wyatt stopped. "What?"

"I'm dyin" the man repeated.

The ex Sheriff drilled holes into his back as he stood there, his brain coming up with a million and one questions in the timespan of a single minute. 

"Dyin?" He said. "Dyin of what?" 

"My uncle called it tuberculosis. Said I had only about three more months to live. The only problem is he said that seventeen year's ago."

Wyatt frowned. Seventeen years? That was a long time ago for someone to have made that call. If what the other man was saying was correct then he'd been given what was basically a death sentence and here he was thriving seventeen years later, way more months ahead than he'd probably thought he'd had.

And besides...Wyatt had known of people before with tuberculosis and he knew that it was not only hell on the body but that with the distruction it caused to the lung's it was also a sure death sentence. 

"But you're still here" he stated eventually after careful deliberation. "You're still living."

"Unfortunately."

Doc turned. When he did the moonlight caught him and held him there. He didn't sparkle, no, his personality was much to dark for that but he did glow, sort of like an ember in a dying fire. 

He was nothing short of extraordinary. Pale skin, mocha-colored hair falling into his face. His eyes were dark even in the light but damn were they brilliant. He was taller than Wyatt although not by a long shot. 

And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. 

The bible verse came to Wyatt from nowhere. He had no idea what it meant to him or why he'd thought of it but he tucked it into his memories for later. 

Suddenly, the past week or so made sense. It all made sense now. The coughing, the drinking, the pale skin. It was because he had an incurable disease and he was dying. It was because it was getting worse.

"Ok" Wyatt said slowly. "Ok you're dyin. Why tell me?"

"So that when I fall over on you you're not suprised."

"I heard you were around Kansas back when I was there" Wyatt murmured. "If you're dying why'd you come all the way up here?" 

"Doctor's said the dry climate would do me better" Doc answered. "But I must say that from what I can tell movin hasn't done much for me or the brighter side of things."

Wyatt made a noise in the back of his throat. "You're a doctor."

"No" Doc drawled. "As I recall you said before, I'm a dentist."

On the inside Wyatt snorted. How very fitting. As dark as he was Doc would be the type to pull teeth for a living.

"Are you still one?" Wyatt asked.

"I wouldn't be here if I was."

There was silence. A rush of wind came through the trees and Wyatt removed his hat in order to let it blow through his hair. The blonde strand's spilled over onto his forehead and suddenly he felt extremely self conscious, what with the other man's piercing eye's on him and all. 

He wanted to know what the man saw in him. What he thought he could offer him as he stood around dying. Wyatt didn't think he was anything special although most every lawman and outlaw in the states said he was, but apparently Doc did. Wyatt could see it in the way he looked at him.

"Why do you keep helpin me?"

Doc moved, slowly, with care, and Wyatt's heart jumped with every sure step. "Is that against the rules of playin?"

"We just met eachother barely more than a week ago. The townsfolk are talkin. They want to know why Ole Doc Holliday and Ole Wyatt Earp are teamed up all of a sudden."

"It would seem that way wouldn't it Sheriff. The lawman and the outlaw."

He went silent after that and Wyatt took that as his go ahead to continue. 

"The cowboy's are _our_ burden" he said. "Me and my brother's. And it looks to me like they're also trouble you don't need. And yet everytime one of them calls themselves pointin a gun at me you find yourself at the forefront."

"Why Wyatt" Doc said. Good God his voice made Wyatt want to just throw himself into his arms...and it scared him. "Whatsoever do I have to fear?"

It clicked then. It clicked so suddenly that Wyatt almost stumbled and fell. The horse, pale, and the name of death. Doc was the horse, pale and sickly and he was dying which represented death. The only part Wyatt didn't understand was who exactly hell was and why in the world he was following him. 

It made sense now why doc stumbled around drunk and picked fights and joined shootouts and cut up like the worst of them. For all he knew he'd been diagnosed to die seventeen years ago and his journey could end at any moment. Or maybe, just maybe, he just wasn't meant to die.

The wind blew and Wyatt let his voice carry across it. 

"Death on a pale horse." 

The green in Doc's eyes was striking. Wyatt would compare them to two emeralds if they'd been lit on fire. "If only you knew."

"I have a woman" Wyatt confessed as though Doc didn't already know this. "And so do you so what's the verdict?"

When the doctor took a few more steps and invaded his personal space he ignored every single bone in his body and remained still. The man's pull on him was dangerous. 

"Well Wyatt you tell me."

"I-I don't know what you want from me" the blonde said. "I think I have an idea but-but it isn't right, we both know it. If someone were to find out they'd tear us down and hang us both."

"Well they'd be daisy's if they did."

Doc put both hands on the pistols at his side and for some reason Wyatt didn't get the urge to grab his own. What was this man doing to him? Why did he trust him well enough in the timespan of a week to follow him deep into the open countryside, at night? 

Wyatt wished he would say something but the truth was that he didn't have to. His eyes said everything for him.

"Why did you call yourself an outlaw?" He asked. "As far as I know you aren't Wanted anywhere."

"Correct you are but I must say I'm not exactly popular."

"And why is that?" 

When the silence stretched Wyatt allowed himself to spare the other man a glance. He was asking the question but he already knew the answer. Doc was just about as well known as he was maybe even more so.

The stories of him were everywhere.

The high rambling tale of the smart, high class boy from Georgia who went to college, fell in love with his cousin and then, at the bidding of his inherited disease, quickly fell apart to make room for an unforgiving man. One who earned a well known reputation for drinking, gambling and killing anyone who got in the way of the first two things. 

"You must think me a fool. I'm aware you already know the answer."

"I do know the answer" Wyatt said.

He'd seen the answer right before his eyes, the drinking, the gambling and the killing, the latter of which though was done on his behalf.

"It doesn't turn me away" Wyatt continued. "You drink, you gamble and you kill, hell, every man, good or bad, down the strip of the south has done those same things. _I've_ done those things. The only thing that makes you different is that you do them well."

He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed deeply.

"Hell I didn't start off no upstanding lawman that's for sure, still don't know why that's my title to this day."

"And what is it, Wyatt, tell me, that started you out in the upside down?"

Wyatt turned and blushed, not wanting to meet his eyes as he told his story even though he was looking at a man who'd done far far worse.

Out beyond, the owl's and cricket's seemed to speak to him. He wished he knew their language like Doc knew latin, then maybe he'd have someone to share his problems with. Or maybe he was staring at that "someone" now and was just to blind to see it. 

"I was a horse theif growing up" he said slowly. "Law found out and they could've hung me for it so I ran away and never went back. My brother's came with me. We made a blood pact that we would never part and I changed my ways and got on the good side of the law."

His story was mediocre, he knew, in comparison to Doc's, but it felt glad to get it off his chest for once seeing as no one ever asked. He was the souths golden boy. Nobody cared how he got to being the finest lawman they just cared that he was. In fact, Doc was the first person to ever ask. 

"You know you're the first person to ever ask me that" he said. 

"The first and more than likely last."

The silence was comfortable but Wyatt broke it, again. He never really could stop running his mouth could he. 

"Still, we both have a woman. And I might be able to bend some rules but I'm not a cheater."

God he sounded so pathetic. Bedding with a man was fine but cheating on his woman for said man wasn't?

Doc coughed. "Unlike you I'm afraid my side isn't permanent."

"Mine isn't either."

"Good" the man said, a little offhandedly. "Let her remain that way. My apologies if I will not be dissuaded by a, simple obstacle, if that's what you want to call her."

Wyatt leaned back against the tree behind him, remembering Kate's impromptu word's of wisdom.

 _"The way he looks at you is different. He's never looked at me that way. He wants you"_ and then further more, _"So he'll have you darlin...you're his."_

I'm his Wyatt thought and then said aloud, as if in some sort of trance, "I'm your's."

Wyatt froze and Doc smirked a little going by the slight twitch of his mustache. Damn. Wyatt was done for. 

"Why thank you Sheriff" the man drawled and his eyes were dark again. "That you are."


	9. Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did some research and and found out that Tuberculosis is contagious but only through coughing and sneezing. Kissing and touching is ok it's just the coughing and sneezing that does it ^_^

"Where have you been?" 

Laura's eye's were red ringed and puffy, her lip's swollen from constant biting and her hair in an unorganized disarray. Next to her on the sheet's were three bottles of lidoneum. When Wyatt picked them up he found that they were empty.

"Why are still drinking this?" He asked softly. "Why are you still drinking this after I told you to stop?"

"I asked you a question first" she said and coughed wretchedly into the sleeve of her nightgown. "Where have you been? Out with that whore?"

Wyatt sighed and rubbed his face a few times before he looked at her. He didn't have time for this. Not now. He had way too many things going on in his head and he was sick and tired of all these sleepless nights.

"No" he said. "No I wasn't. I was out ridin with Doc."

"Doc huh? Doc Holliday? So the two of you are just best friend's now?"

"Laura. Laura please go to sleep."

"I'm up all day looking for my husband and he's out gallavantin across the country with some wanted outlaw."

"He's not an outlaw!" 

Wyatt cursed and took off his hat, laying it on top of the dresser. His hands were shaking. He needed to relax, and fast.

"I'm sorry" he said and tried to sound like he meant it. "I'm sorry."

He moved to wrap his arm's around her but she jerked herself away in order to glare at him like he was the devil himself. Suddenly, the tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

"Defendin him now are you? Defendin him against your woman, _your_ woman Wyatt. Defendin a wanted _outlaw_ that goes around killin people"

"Laura I kill people."

"It's not the same Wyatt and you know it."

"It is the same because he's not an outlaw."

"He's a murderer and a cheat, and even worse he's got that God awful disease of his. Lord knows why he came all the way to this town, he's probably given it to all of us. You'd think your brother's would talk some sense into you but they're in cahoots with him to."

Wyatt pulled his boot's off and lay down in the bed. It was obvious to him now that she had lost her mind. Tuberculosis wasn't even contagious, it was inherited. 

Wyatt pulled the covers up overtop of himself and whispered firmly, "I'm going to bed Laura, goodnight."

"You would be. You would come on home and go to bed after you've already done what's needed."

Faced the complete opposite direction Wyatt closed his eyes and worked hard to ignore her, and soon, fell deeply asleep.

//

Wyatt opened his eyes to the sound of rustling and peered around in the darkness. It was hard to see but not to hard because the moon was still coming in through the window. 

He used his hand to feel around next to him on the bed and found the spot to be cold, and empty. More rustling sounded and he sat up a little to try and locate the noise. 

He's eyes found the source though it wasn't very hard. Not five feet in front of him Laura was standing hovered over the middle dresser drawer. 

Wyatt watched her in silence as she pulled out a brand new bottle of lidoneum. She popped the cork and downed a third of it before moaning and holding it tight to her chest. 

She must've stood there for a good fifteen minutes before she tucked the bottle into her nightgown and came back to bed. 

She shook beneath the cover and Wyatt could feel it. He lay awake, listening in the dark and eventually she opened the bottle again amd drank some more. 

The shaking stopped.

Wyatt closed his eyes again. There were so many things he wanted to say but he said nothing. 

//

Wyatt ran through a torturous dream. 

Up above the sky was dark and it was raining. The moon was nowhere in sight, supposedly covered up by the cloud's.

Wyatt stood alone in the center of town with his hat down and head hanging low. Across the lot from him there stood a figure, dressed all in black, and many other figures standing behind it.

Wyatt eyed him from afar and somehow he knew rhis man was dangerous and he had to kill him. That's what everyone was waiting for. For the lawman to murder the outlaw.

"Wyatt." 

Virgil's voice came to him from behind but he didn't turn around to acknowledge it.

"Wyatt this ain't what I wanted" his brother said. "This ain't what I wanted at all."

"Well like you said Verge" he replied with confidence. "If we're gonna have a future in this town it's gotta have some law and order."

Far off to the left a tumbleweed blew. The ran layed down upon him like an unwelcomed blanket and he shivered underneath the tide. He eyed his target down from across the street and even though he couldn't see their face knew that they were doing every bit of the same. 

When they drew they drew together but Wyatt was faster still. He didn't understand it, how it was possible for a man, for _him_ to be able to draw that fast. He was a lawman not a sharpshooter. 

The spectator's gasped. He fired his shot and the man went down screaming only...only...something wasn't right. The voice. It was his brother's voice. It was...it was _Morgan's_ voice.

"Wyatt!" 

"Wyatt you killed him!"

"You shot your brother!" 

"He's dead! He's dead! Morgan's dead!"

Wyatt ran like hell was behind him and dove next to the limp body on the ground. He snatched the hat off and lifted the man's head to stare directly into the light baby blue's of his middle brother. 

" _Wyatt_ " Morgan gasped. "Wyatt, Wyatt why'd you do that? Why'd you shoot me Wyatt?"

"Morgan. Morgan I'm so sorry I didn't know. I didn't know it was you I didnt-"

Blood bubbled from Morgan's mouth and he coughed wrechedly before sighing once into the air and going still.

Wyatt screamed.

"Morgan! Morgan no! Wake up! Wake up you son of a bitch, wake _up_!" 

At the feeling of fists against his back he turned his head akwardly and came face to face with Louisa who clawed at him and spit. 

"You killed him!" She screamed. "You shot him and now he's dead! You killed him!"

"It wasn't supposed to be this way!" Wyatt yelled. "It wasn't! It wasn't supposed to be this way!"

She dissapeared and so did everyone else, including the town. The only thing left afterwards was Morgan's body and even that didn't look the way it was supposed to. It looked akward and twisted, colored darker in some places and lighter in others. 

When Wyatt raised his eyes Doc was sitting a few feet away from him at a table playing cards. He blinked and suddenly he was there too, at the table with his own set of card's in his hand. 

Doc eyes were full of mirth as he layed down his cards, six of them to be exact, each of them printed boldly with a single letter that came together to spell one word:

 **Morgan**.

He smiled and coughed and blood splattered onto the table. Wyatt lifted his hands when he felt something sticky on them and when he did so almost fell out of his chair. His hands, starting from the wrists and ascending all the way to the tips of his fingers were covered solidly in a crimson sheen of blood. 

At the first sob that racked his body and stunted his breathing Doc smiled again and said tonelessly, "Isn't that a daisy?"


	10. Stumble

For a moment, Wyatt almost managed to convince himself that retaliation wasn't coming, that maybe the Cowboy's would just let it go.

But then he remembered that he was on Earth. A place where nothing was to small or to measly to be ignored and that there were many men out there who wanted nothing out of the world other than blood. 

He walked, through the town on his way to the saloon with both his brother's posted at his side. To his left Doc lay down watching them from the porch of the barbers shop. His mouth said nothing in ways of greetings but his eyes spoke enough. 

To their right there came the tale tell squeal of a wooden door. 

"Sister boy's should've stuck around."

The brother's turned. Ringo stumbled out of the nearby hangout spot looking more worse for wear than Wyatt had ever seen him. He dropped the bottle in his hand and it shattered upon impact. 

Slowly, Virgil's hand moved to his gun but didn't pull it out, instead resting threateningly on the hilt. 

"What do you want Ringo" the man asked gruffly.

"I want your _blood_ " came the reply. "And I want your soul's. And I want em both _right now_."

Wyatt spoke up when no when else volunteered. "We don't want any more trouble-"

"Well you got trouble!" 

The drunken cowboy pointed his finger at Wyatt and the ex Sheriff got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. "And it all starts with _you_."

Why him? Why did it start with him? Wyatt was the one who'd tried to prevent this, the one who'd originally gone _against_ the idea because he knew where it'd lead them.

If anything, Virgil was the one who'd started it. Him and Morgan, thinking that a little silver star on their coats and a title to their name was gonna bring law and order to a band of reckless hooligans that murdered and raped for entertainment. 

Wyatt stared. Prompted by both the horrible dream he'd had the night before and his respect for the town's law even though it didn't apply to him, he had no gun on his person. He'd decided he didn't want to carry one anymore. He wasn't a threat, he was _retired_. 

He turned and opened up his coat so that Ringo could see.

"Not gonna fight you Ringo...there's no money in it. Sober up."

He turned away and jerked his head to his brother's. "C'mon boy's, let's go."

Ringo followed yelling after them. "Retched slugs. Don't any of you have the guts to play for blood!" 

"I'm your huckleberry."

An instant silence spread across the men and their gathered spectator's. Doc stepped off the porch and out of the shadows with that same quality of easiness he always did. 

"That's just my game."

Ringo eyed him for a moment and then, shockingly, agreed to his challenge.

"Alright lunger" he said nodding. "You go to hell."

They circled eachother. Doc's right hand was poised over the gun on his side but there was another one hidden carefully behind his back in his left.

The other cowboy's including Bill poured out of the building and Wyatt tensed aware of what had happened the last time there'd been a gathering of this size. 

Ringo swayed heavily on his feet. "I'll put you out of your misery!" 

"Say when." 

"Johnny no!"

Bill sprinted forward and with the help of the other cowboy's secured Ringo by the arm's before he could draw. Wyatt moved in front of Doc even though he had no gun and surely the man could taken care of himself.

So apparently Bill, much like Ike, wasn't as stupid as he looked.

Ringo might've been fast, sure, but he was also drunk and shitfaced and Doc was not. But even drunk Doc was fast, and entirely coherant, and if it wasn't for Bill and his friend's coming out and grabbing him it would've been a death sentence as sure as the ground he was standing on. 

"Woah woah woah."

"Easy Johnny, easy."

Johnny fought and twisted as he struggled to break through the men's grip. "Get off me! Get off!"

They dragged him a little ways away and Bill turned back laughing, just as nonchalant as ever.

"Don't mind him" he said easily. "He just drunk that's all."

"No! No!" Johnny pushed the men off and sprinted forward but Bill grabbed him and held him. He yelled anyways, up and over the other man's red clothed shoulder with rage in his eyes.

"I want them spittin blood!" 

Bill manhandled him further away until the point that he just gave him a little push and the drunken Cowboy went sailing into the open door, knocking over one of the spare coffins as he did so. 

Bill made some offhanded comment about Ringo and then they dissapeared inside laughing. 

When Wyatt turned his head to look at Doc the man tipped his hat politely and walked back onto the porch with a soft spoken, "gentleman."

"We've had our share" Morgan sighed. "Let's go."

//

"This has gone to far" Wyatt growled. 

"Gone to far?" Virgil asked. "Or you just can't handle it?"

"Don't go there Verge. Not now. I've already had enough between them and Laura, I don't need you against me too."

"I'm not against you Wyatt I just know what your limits are. I've been your brother long enough that I should."

All the way on the other side of the room Morgan slid his pool stick across the table and landed his ball in the pocket. 

"Somethins comin" he said shrugging. "And it ain't good. It ain't good at all."

Lou and Roger Tiller, Lou's brother frowned where they sat next to Wyatt. Over the last week or so they and the brother's, especially Wyatt, had become friend's of sorts and Wyatt knew that they could be trusted on matters such as these. And that they had the smarts to comprehend them. 

"Wyatt for starters I think you outta start carryin a gun on your belt" Roger said.

Wyatt shook his head. "But that's just the thing I can't."

"Why can't you? You're a man with a reputation and known enemies, it'd be blasphemy if you couldn't."

"I just want to live a normal life."

"Well you gave that up as soon as you pinned that star on your coat now what's the other reason?"

Wyatt's glass was empty. He raised it up and called for the bartender to come pour him another. A gentle buzz was starting in his head and it was only his first glass. How in the world Doc did it he didn't understand. Must've built up a tolerance to it. 

"There is no other reason" he said. "Besides the fact that I don't want anymore blood on my hands."

"Well you've got enough I'm sure that a little more on the fingertips won't matter."

Lou swallow the last of his whiskey and said surely, "I think they're plannin somethin. And whether it be today, tomorrow or a week from now it's best we all be prepared."

Wyatt smiled. We. 

"Yeah? And who are we callin" Virgil asked. "We don't have anybody to be prepared with."

"Bullshit. How can you say that with the most well known lawman in this lick of the south sittin right in front of you."

"Oh Wyatt's not all that."

"Not in your eyes, he's your brother, but I bet you he could call any lawman from in-between here and west of the Mississippi and they'd come runnin like the plague was after em."

He slapped his glass down onto the table and pointed. "I was there the day you arrived Wyatt. I saw what you did to that ole Johnny Tyler fellow and I saw when he came at you with that shot gun. You're lucky Doc stopped him from shootin and he's lucky he didn't get the shot loose or else every lawman and outlaw from here to Kansas would be on his tail for killing the one and only Wyatt Earp."

"Speakin of Holliday" Roger said. "Is he with us?"

All eyes turned to Wyatt. The blonde remained silent for a long moment and then shrugged. "I'd guess so. He hasn't done nothin against us and everytime I've come to trouble he's been right at the forefront."

"He's a son of a bitch" Virgil said although he was smiling. "He gambles, drink's, and cheats at poker but I'll be damned if I've seen anybody draw a pistol faster. As far as I know he's the most dangerous gunslinger from here to Mississippi. He's what we need."

"Why didn't you say that about the poker" Lou interjected. "I was playing against him the other night and lost all my money, you were sittin there."

"You'll be alright."

"Aw hell" Roger said smiling. "Lou you've cheated before."

"I have not."

"You have too."

"Says who?"

"Says me."

"Alright alright men I'm sure we've all cheated at poker once or twice in our lives." Morgan lay his pool stick on the table and sat down, nursing his arm gently by his side. 

"How's your arm holdin up?" Wyatt asked.

"It's alright. Hurt's though. I won't be shootin with it for a while."

Wyatt sighed. They were all just relieved it hadn't been his actual shooting arm. Last thing they needed was him crippled _and_ unable to shoot.

"We need to come up with a plan" Lou said.

Virgil's face was uncertain. "How? We won't have any idea of what they're doin until they up and do it." 

Wyatt stood and placed his hat back onto his head. "I need to go find Doc" he said. "If he's with us he should be here."

//

The search for the man took him the better part of an hour but Wyatt found him, eventually, in the Inlet. Of course hhe' bed there, Wyatt thought laughingly, in the swankiest hotel in town. Wyatt should of started there first. 

He thanked the man across the table and made his way up the stairs and down the short hallway to the final room at the very end. 

What he knocked there was silence for a few minutes and the sound of movement and then a woman's voice, Kate's by the sound of it asking who it was. 

"It's Wyatt" he announced. More silence. 

The door swung open suddenly and the ex Sheriff was assaulted with both the smell of expensive perfume and tabacco. 

At Kate's bidding he entered. The room was...much bigger than he'd expected and neat too. Of all the people in town Doc was the first choice for having all his stuff put in order. There were shirts and ties layed out on the bed and bottles of whiskey on the nightstand. 

Doc was seated on the edge of the bed with one leg up and the other hanging over to just barely graze the floor. He was fully dressed in yet another pristine three piece, this one grey and blue, with one pistol posted on his side and the other resting on the bed.

The man's deep greens met his own bright blues and he nodded once in affirmation to Kate who stood watching them by the door. 

"You may go now."

Kate left and closed the door behind her. Wyatt was surprised she didn't protest but then again Doc's word was final and this was probably just the way they operated. 

"Why Wyatt" the man said leaning back onto his elbows as though surveying him. "What brings you here on this lovely afternoon?"

"Me, my brother's and Lou and his brother are all down at the Emporium talkin about what to do on this "situation" so to speak. We figure you're with us so I came to get you."

He paused and asked wearily, "you are with us, aren't you?"

Wyatt didnt know. Doc was no lawman but he was no outlaw either. He killed, cheated and drank but he wasn't yet on anyone's hanging list. But still, Wyatt wasnt sure. Doc was a lone wolf, he worked alone because that's what suited him and probably there was a big change he wanted to remain that way. 

"What an awful thing to ask me." Doc got up suddenly and before Wyatt knew it was standing right in front of him. He backed him up until he was pressed up against the door and asked him, "is that anyway to talk to your friend?"

Wyatt stammered and flushed out of pure embarrassment. "W-well no I mean I didn't mean to assume but-"

"But..."

Doc put one hand on Wyatt's waist and the other into his hair and pulled. The ex Sheriff gasped and it was over. Doc wasted no time in closing the gap and shoving his tongue down the man's throat. 

The dark haired man tasted like...chocolate, strawberry's and faintly, so faintly in fact that it was almost undetectable, blood. They kissed passionately against the door and Wyatt had no idea whether or not it was the hand in his hair or the tongue in his throat but there was a feeling building within his gut, one he'd felt before. 

When Doc stopped it was abrupt and unwanted. He backed away from him and went to the bed to retrieve his gun.

Wyatt stood there, dumbfounded, cought between the shadow of the dresser and the sunlight from the window. His breathing was labored, eratic. He...he'd just...he'd just kissed Doc Holliday, _the_ Doc Holliday, one of the most feared men in the entire country and-and he'd liked it. 

Doc's eyes were on him then and he winked, placing both hands on his pistols and asking teasingly,

"Isn't that a daisy?"


End file.
